Cold As Snow
by Ekoaleko
Summary: Fury... hate... turmoil... the villagers are swelling with the three pounding emotions. Some will do anything just to take them away... maybe, just maybe, even commit murder. ForgetMeNot Valley is in for one bloody ride...sequel to Her Name In Blood.
1. Cold As Snow

A/N: The awaited sequel to Her Name In Blood! The genre will remain at its abnormal horror/suspense/romance/humour/mystery, etc etc. I can't guarantee this installment will live up to the last one, but hopefully you'll like it. I'll get around to recapping sooner or later, but if you wanna know what's going on... well, just read it, lol. There is a new set of main characters, but this is just the introduction.

Cold As Snow

It was a snowy day in Forget-Me-Not Valley. The ground was as white as the clouds, and fluffy as a sheep's wool. Winter's flaky perspiration splayed out among the hills of the valley, rolling where the land rolled and sloping where the land sloped. It mounted off each and every branch of each and every tree, deciduous or coniferous or bare. The snow fell from head to toe of the town and froze every excess puddle of autumn.

But somewhere in the distance, far, far into the distance, the snow stopped. At the edge of a blue, pristine, unfrozen shoreline, a girl stood, her mascara streaming as quickly as the flurries above her. She brushed at her tears with one soap-coloured sleeve, but they continued to rain down quickly. The long, blonde tresses atop her head ran down her back, ruffled and unkempt for the first time. And once chivalrous green eyes dribbled into a chokehold of depression.

Muffy cried into her open, arctic palms, letting the snow dance from all around her. Hard shudders leaked her broken body and soft moans escaped when she just couldn't hole them in. The coil in her chest ached and throbbed until it felt ready to destruct. She couldn't take it anymore; she buckled to her knees and stayed there.

She would've cried out; she would've exploded into the sky; she would've screamed her lungs sore if she could grasp anything more than the emptiness of her voice. The tears spoke for her, sliding down from her pale cheeks and delivering her eyes' bitterness to her tongue as they slipped unvoluntarily into her mouth.

"It wasn't supposed to happen," she managed to wheeze, in a voice so breathless it made her throat tingle. Her chin pulled downwards where her body remained limply. She blinked to reduce her tears, and it worked by a fraction. Then she leaned over and stared into her reflection from the flickering waves now beneath her. What mannered the reflection was a girl; heartbroken but beautiful all the same, even despite the layers of makeup that were quick washing away.

But Muffy saw none of that. Her green eyes downcast, all she saw was a doll; seamless and ripped apart terribly…

Marlin was supposed to love her. They'd been dating for nearly four seasons— that was a long time for a relationship in a place as primeval and undeveloped as the Valley. They'd been together for practically four, whole seasons. They'd kissed, they'd cuddled, and she'd been happy for almost a year.

She loved him. She was almost completely sure.

But that was just the thing.

_He was supposed to love me too, damn it! _

She brought her slender fingers to her face and parted the hair that had fallen before her eyes. On total instinct, she craned and looked at her reflection once, and the ocean seemed to have stilled for her. But once she peered into the waves, she saw not only herself— but Marlin, standing right behind her, a look of twisted angst unfurled against his face.

Muffy screamed and pulled away from nothingness, gathering herself before he could even touch her. "Get away! _Get away_!" she screeched, not caring her hair was a mess and her face was bleeding with eyeliner.

She turned around to deliver a meticulous slap to his face, but her extended palm folded at the sight deepening into her.

And that sight… was nothing.

No one was there.

She hauled back into her position and fell, her cheeks flat against the sands of the beach as she continued to cry.

He was supposed to love her. He was supposed to love her…

She brought a balled fist and slammed it aimlessly to her side, eliciting a pained cry when her ring finger was met with a sharp rock. She rolled over to her side and scanned her bloody hand, and then her ring finger soon after.

Something was wrong… something that caught her eye more quickly than the rushing blood.

Her ring finger was ringless.

"He didn't love me," she whispered.

And she put her head back down, all thoughts ceasing.

Because he really didn't.

And after nearly hours of lamented deliberation, Muffy stood up. She didn't bother to compose herself as she trudged back to her workplace and home, the Blue Bar, her shoulders sagging and her feet sweeping. Pangs sounded every time something chipped against her high heels, and a torrent of wind screamed into her ear as it barrelled past, but she didn't care. She fixated her eyes to the blanketed cobblestone and walked, oblivious to the earth itself.

She staggered up to the door and shoved it open, not bothering to slink in and slip away to avoid from having her nightmare-portrait seen. Unsurprisingly, all laughter, beer-bottle-clinking, and chatter ceased when eyes directed to the dishevelled beauty. Not one voice was audible, save the blues from a droning radio, which had now somehow switched stations. Out-of-place, upbeat folk music jigged to and fro the bar as Muffy lumbered to the backroom, not sparing even a "hello."

"What's _her _problem?" one of the older men, Patrick, scoffed. In the corner of her eye, she also saw his brother Kassey staring cryptically into the corner, his gaze averted from her; avoiding her. All other eyes remained on her, however, but to her relief no one attempted to stop her.

She swung the door open and then shut it hard, not hesitating as she made her way for her room upstairs. She set one high heeled-foot onto the ladder staircase, but footsteps approached and caused her to halt.

The door flew open once more. "Muffy? Muffy, are you okay?" the familiar voice of his boss, an older man named Griffin, asked. A concerned tone sparked his voice, and Muffy barely spoke a word.

"No," she answered shortly, and climbed the rest of the way to her room, despite Griffin's incessant calls. She climbed up the trapdoor of the attic and closed it briefly behind her. She ignored the full-length mirror that glared back at her ugly, daunting reflection. She hurried past it, feeling unclean and disgusting.

Not wanting to tarnish her bed, or anything else in the room, she sat down on the wooden floorboards and stared ahead, her eyes unfocused. She didn't want to think. She didn't want to cry. She just wanted it all… to stop.

Her heart sang with the word: _stop_. If only her heart could suddenly stop beating, and she could die at the foot of her bed, left with nothing but a beautiful body and a broken heart…

Wouldn't that be sweet…?

She cradled her head in her arms, which were red and stinging from the outer cold. Immune to nature's fury, she desultorily glanced around at her room The haphazard gesture earned a jolt from her as her eyes fell upon a single, framed photo slanted bleakly on her nightstand.

She leapt to the nightstand and almost ripped the photo off, and all suddenly went numb as she held it with trembling hands, just staring into the centre of the photo with wide eyes.

She was standing there beside Marlin. She looked gorgeous; he looked hot. She looked exuberant; he looked angry…

She hurled the photo at the wall, nearly cringing when the frame exploded and shards flew everywhere. Her chest rose and fell for a few moments, as if unable to depict the photo's existence.

Finally she jerked her head away with such force her forehead nearly hit the wall. Her slender body rolled into a fetal position and she found herself sobbing like a child on her sides, only, softly.

It was her fault in the end, though, wasn't it? She really was such a child… such a hopeless, naïve child. She had the ability to stop doing all the wrong things she did… but she always believed there was one more chance. If she got one more shot, one more throw; she'd get it in. If she went one more round, she'd score the jackpot. If she just had another chance, she'd able to win all the things she'd lost, back…

She believed that every time… yet it never happened.

A wistful moan escaped her and she found herself falling into a dreaming, haunting slumber, the nightmare of illusion being Marlin's lips on someone else's. She envisioned herself back where she stood, and in a second's time she felt she was back in her shoes. She felt herself whirl around. She felt herself run. But most painstakingly of all, she felt herself cry.


	2. Eye Through the Opening

Disclaimer/Warning: Language, violence, angst.

Cold As Snow

"So, I take it that's southbound?"

Gwen shouted to make her voice as clear and legitimate as physically possible. An old man leered at her from behind a thick glass wall. He leaned in towards a clutter of holes in the glass to reply, "For the last time, it's a one-way ride! Or a round trip," he said in full irritancy, only to contradict himself.

Gwen was getting annoyed as well, her redundancy expressing like a freight train. "I know, already!" she snapped at him. "I'm asking which way leads to the train… the signs say northbound and southbound!"

"_Those are the routes_!!" the old man roared.

"I know that! I'm not _that _stupid! But that's not my point!" she jeered back, a vein throbbing on her forehead.

She turned to eye the long line of people behind her and realized how impatient they looked. But as impatient as they seemed, they looked like they knew where they were going. She could just ask one of them for directions. No one needed a smelly old man.

"Forget it," she muttered once he drew forward to bustle her. She realized how he bristled when she started to walk away and a small smirk rose to her lips; however she stopped when a firm hand extended and wrapped around her arm.

"Excuse me, Miss."

Gwen turned her head and yanked from the stranger's grip simultaneously, anger flaring into her. "What do you want?" she asked the poncho-clad traveler.

He seemed to hesitate, and a man with a baseball cap behind him, slightly taller, rolled his eyes. "It's just," he began, "you forgot to pay for your ticket."

A stone fell somewhere from inside her. "…Pay?"

Gwen was a full girl. She was sensible, determined, experienced, and strong— in ways more than one. She was the exact opposite of a pushover. But there were other problems in life, and one that struck her hard…

Money.

She'd never descended from a rich family, nor had any of her parents or their parents married any. All her life was spent working hard day-in and day-out just to earn what was barely enough to cover mortgage, taxes, and bills. The extra money was always saved, but somehow spent eventually. The shining copper and silver coins and the thick wads of bills were always slightly foreign to her. And a simple fare, she couldn't waste it on…

She did the most sensible thing she could; she wheeled and ran.

"STOP!" the older man shrieked; pressing his hands against the clear glass like a mime. "GET HER!"

But the crowds she weaved through were too tight and dense, and the people all around her were enclosing her trail like rosebush thickets. Also, everyone talking at once did not aid the screaming psychopath that yelled incessantly at her, and his voice was drained out among dozens of others.

But when Gwen turned her head to look back and ensure her safety, she did see two men scrambling after her. One had a poncho; the other, a baseball cap.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" Poncho hollered, skidding to block her exit. Gwen would've punched him right in the eye if she hadn't been in public; she'd gotten wiser in terms of the media.

"Get out of my way!" Instead of going around, she shoved him in the chest and leapt over him as he fell to the floor, dumbstruck. It was better than knocking him out. Soon the scene evolved into a wild goose chase and she was all over the place panting, as she found no place to hide.

Finally, she reached a station, and a long vehicle was seen in the distance. As much as she had to get away, she couldn't help but fixate her eyes on the magnificent structure. It was large, that was for sure— at least twelve feet high— and its sides were khaki green, with strong gears and wheels meld upon it.

However, when the whirring train drew closer, she could clearly see someone standing inside, peering at her closely from one of the clear windows. She blinked when the man suddenly eyed her with pure fury, blanching as the train rushed on. The figure immediately disappeared from view.

"I found her!"

She whipped around, her eyes wide, just as she saw the two struggling to catch up with her. Wiping the man's image clean from her mind, she broke into a run; and sooner than she knew it, the train started catching up with them. It streaked past her with such force that a wind nearly knocked her over, and she found herself shoving against a wall just to keep upright. Luckily, the two behind her were having difficulty maintaining their balance as well.

Once the wind stopped, she did as well. Glancing around, it didn't take much thought to realize there was no way out. The platform came to a dead end and the staircase was at the back of the narrow strip of land she stood on. She knew she wouldn't be able to get past the two… unless she used brute force…

No. Not again. Not like last time…

Instead, she ducked away when one of the men made a violent grab at her, barely dodging the aimless hit. Without thinking in the least, she took a great jump and landed inside the train. Once inside, she took a deep breath, holding her head in the process.

Her heart leapt to her throat when the two men scrambled inside after her.

"…Well, at least we're not late," one of them insisted, and the doors closed shut behind them.

**xoxo**

Marlin pounded his fist against the wall, restraining himself from collapsing in anger. His entire body trembled with all the anguish that washed against his skin, and beads of sweat ensnared against the nape of his neck. He hit the wall again, the splitting pain divulging his knuckles causing his body to strain. He didn't know if it felt good, or bad…

Nothing was processing for him. His very mind swam into the distance and his sanity exploded into the black of his heart. It had been a few hours, since the mishap had happened… or was it a mishap? Was it coincidence, fate, destiny? Or was it his own wretched doing…?

He kissed Celia, the carefree yet frail brunette girl he worked alongside with at his farm. He didn't know why… but he kissed her. It was as if he'd been restraining himself from doing so all along, but when their lips met… he'd never felt such joy. Not with Muffy; no one. His heart pounded like it never had before, and bliss settled upon his skin. The moment was of pure ecstasy… but then…

Who else but Muffy walked in. He could barely meet eyes with hers, for they had widened with such hurt shock, scarred beyond imagination. But when he managed to brush his gaze along hers, something in them told him it wasn't the first time such a thing happened, and it pained him further knowing he'd been remembered as just another failure… just another heartbreak.

He wanted to say her name. He really did. The moment he extracted himself from Celia, his mouth opened. But what he could not control was Muffy; who turned and ran before he could speak a word. He would've run after her if everything hadn't been so…hard.

Marlin seemed to have realized it before she had, however, but that was just the problem. He knew he didn't love her… didn't she? Why did she have to find out at the very last second? Even if his fountain of affection for her had run into a dam long ago, he couldn't help but agonize over her. After all, she had been his first official girlfriend in a long, long while… and he'd broken the relationship in the worst way possible.

He always thought it was breaking to begin with. Each day, a piece of the puzzle would slowly fall away, until no matter what, nothing could be completed anymore. It was gone, and he didn't try to fix it. His smiles soon fell to frowns, and he barely looked at her. Yet she continued to love him… she continued to show it… when he couldn't. It wasn't his fault that his emotions had faltered, but it was his fault that he'd kissed Celia.

For the third time, his knuckles collided with the oak walls and then he slammed against them in defeat. Angry, welled up tears rushed freely from his eyes and his body stopped shaking at once.

He'd have to apologize to her. There was no other way to lift the guilt.

He made his way for his jacket to exit into the bitter winter winds when there was a rap on the door. Confused on who would visit the store at this hour, he deposited the jacket and quickly went for the door. The knocking ensued.

"I'm coming!" he muttered gruffly, quickly wiping at the sweat on his body. The door wrenched open, and for a second he almost thought Muffy would be standing there. "What?"

His gaze was met with a depleted brown one's, however, belonging to the lowly hobo of the town, Murrey. He slumped before him, palms extended into a small, casket-shaped formation. "Please, I'm hungry," he said in his whisper of a voice. Normally, Marlin would offer him a morsel of last night's dinner, or onion peels from the garbage out back. But in a situation like this, he was feeling less than giving.

"No," he snapped darkly. And without waiting for a response, he slammed the door shut. "Fucking runt…" He turned his back to grab his jacket again when he heard more knocking. "I _said_—"

"Give me food."

He was taken aback by the new tone settled in Murrey's voice. In all honesty, he never knew it was possible for him to speak in such a clear, defiant tone. But in some ways… it scared him.

"Give me food," the muffled yet solid voice came from outside. "Or else."

Marlin began to grow angry. "Yeah? Or else what?" he seethed, not liking the fact that he was being threatened by a beggar. "Why don't _you _get lost, or else I'll—"

"Give me food, or else I will kill you."

He felt his abdomen suddenly clench and his heart nearly thrust out of his chest. The derisive tone in Murrey's voice… he wasn't kidding… was he? Was he serious? Was what was once thought to be a quiet, lone soul… a murderous one as well?

His thoughts were interrupted when the beggar's slicing voice relented. "I'll open the door, walk inside, and kill you, right now," he cautioned, malice dripping from his words.

"How— what—" Marlin didn't know what it was he was trying to say.

"_Three_," he heard in a scathing, scratchy voice, and for some reason it terrified him.

Pulse quickening and heart thrashing, Marlin hastily whirled around. What was this sudden fear that tore and clutched at his heart? "_Two_!" He let out a ragged breath and grabbed the first edible item in sight— eggplant curry on the counter. He swung open the door at "_One_", almost expecting to get jumped at. But instead, the small, wandering soul crouched down piteously before him, the greedy and unsatisfied glint in his eye speaking for him. Marlin practically hurled the dish at him but it was caught with dirty hands.

"Thank you," Murrey rasped, but his eyes averted stealthily.

"…You're welcome," Marlin answered quickly, and he found his heart beating faster and faster. Murrey had never pulled anything like this before… even if it was the first time, what was the explanation for the sudden tense of his limbs? Standing there after being cautioned over his own bloody death, he couldn't help but pale with his surroundings. "I gotta go," he said in the most composed voice he could muster. He saw Murrey nod and turn away, trembling as he shut the door before he could be warned. His breath was still uneven when he found himself safe inside.

_Give me food, or else I will kill you. _

"He wouldn't; he was bluffing," he soothed himself. Then he inhaled deeply, trying to remember what his priority was to begin with. Murrey didn't mean anything… after all, he was just being stupid, as usual. He was a stupid fool…

"Muffy," he reminded himself briefly without realizing, and then remorse panged into her heart at the sound of her name. He snatched his jacket and threw it on, trying to force the image of his ex-girlfriend's face out of his head. Somehow, it was replaced with Murrey's, and another trail of chills snaked down his spine. Groggily, he eyed the door.

He'd wait for a while, until Murrey had wandered out of sight. When he was gone, he'd take his leave for the Blue Bar, Muffy's home. _For precautions, _Marlin told himself, but fear was one of many emotions that could not be over-feigned. The sudden numbness of his chest told otherwise: he didn't want to intertwine paths with the murderous beggar again.

_… I will kill you… _

Shivers ran down his spine at the very words.

_I will kill you. _

He opened the door to leave.

**xoxo **

A/N: I've decided to make the a/ns at the end of the chapter now XD Why? Because they tend to take away the seriousness of the actual chapter. The Murrey thing is VITAL to the plot, and being one of the first chapters the details are critical. Important note: **_reread chapter 1's A/N. Or you won't get it._ **

Anyway, thank you The Scarlet Sky, kisa-chan-2006, MyShadowsThorn, and RainbowMelody for reviewing. Not much to say because of the nifty (hah… I said 'nifty') reply button, but I'd just like to repeat myself.

(Sorry about obnoxious format and html. ff isn't letting me upload new documents/is evil so I had to copy and paste...)


	3. Innuendo: the scent of death

A/N: Right, right, I take that back. I'm back to the old, funny-lookin' format. Ha. Well, sorry this update is a little slow, but I made up for it because it's a bit longer. It's finally a turning point— many more characters are introduced. And for those of you who are new to my horror style of writing, there are MANY main characters… that are slowly reduced in ways more than one ;) Why spoil it though?

I love The Scarlet Sky, Radioactive X-Naut, Ultra Drama Queen, and MyShadowsThorn for reviewing. We're getting married, guys.

**Disclaimer/Warning: **I don't own Harvest Moon. Language. Violence. Drug abuse. (As far as drugs go…)

Enjoy the newest, most twisted addition to date:D

Cold As Snow

_Balance. _

Without it, we would die. The Valley is very different from both the rural and urban regions of this earth. In some ways, this is an advantage. And it some ways… it is not.

Rivers flow, spawning from nowhere, and an endless sea touches our shore and remains there for all to ponder. Where does it come from? Where does it end?

Such a magnificent structure does not belong in a simple village. It will only make people get ahead of themselves; dreaming the dreams they cannot reach. Hoping for things they will never get. Crossing the seas in which ends they will never see. False hope… it is everywhere.

The ocean touches our Valley and earth and wild life is vivid among all. Trees are plentiful, flowers abundant… and in due time, science proves all will go to waste. A pity, it is. Life is pity.

Two new farmers are moving in at the vacant farm. For some reason, this gives me a bad feeling. My hypothesis: they will throw off the peaceful Valley's balance. They will spawn another war… like last time. Such a thing should not be overlooked; the few days I've exited my laboratory for physical observation, people have told me I've been thinking too much. What a ridiculous conspiracy… extensive thinking is possible, but "thinking too much" is not. It's illogical, irrational, and simply impossible.

Returning to the theory of the new farmers' arrival… I fear things will take a turn for the worse. The remote burg we live on is peaceful, quiet; and perhaps it would be primitive without my inhabitancy. As I eye the many test tubes, experiments, successions and failures that spread out and stare at me from my wooden desktop, for the first time in a long time I cannot think of a solution. What is it that I should do to them? However susceptibly "innocent" they may appear to be; I know from experience that no one can be trusted. For now, I will watch with a keen eye… but if an unbalance settles I am obligated to intervene.

…The creature is moving again. I caught it just a season ago, and already it grows restless. As one of my newest species, I am still struggling to analyze its nature and existence… never before have I stumbled upon such a wondrous being possessing such black, pebble-like eyes and endless coat of white, ragged fur. Sharp teeth— nearly fangs, as well. Such a hideous monster, yet so magnificent; yet so despised…

In some ways it reminds me of one of my most recent experiments. A runaway, it was… and as I write these words, I fear for it.

Another specimen has stirred. Upon inspection, she appears to still be asleep from the drug I gave her. As I look at the soft features of her sleeping face, her gender is the only thing I am possible to determine. All other facts will remain unchecked as of late.

I found such a being washed up on the shore simply days ago. Green hair was the first thing I took in. It radiated off her pale, sunless skin… but the next thing I noticed was: she had no body. In place of legs, was a long, fish-like tail… curved as a fisherman's hook. I have placed her in an airlock facility, a tank half filled with water and air. Another balance, I see… will such a creature disturb it?

Her name is yet anonymous… for the drug's effects are still taking place. She has not awoken. But soon will be the time; very soon…

Something has broken in the distance, and a piercing shatter has startled me. I turn to glance behind my shoulder and I immediately know the cause of the abrupt disruption. The white beast has stirred. Without a moment to waste I will go to inject its second dose of medicine. Time is valuable. The process is so delicate, and the execution so intricate, that if even one distinctive thread of problem were to occur… all will be lost in the peaceful Valley we call home.

But for now I will end this log… any further information remains either unknown or confiscated.

_Signed, Daryl of Forget-Me-Not Valley_.

**xoxo**

Celia leaned against the hard wall of her home, her head pounding. Everything was so confusing… so confusing it hurt. She couldn't think. She couldn't speak.

And ever since she'd swallowed all those pills she'd found in the bathroom, she could barely move, nausea stirred in her stomach that threatened to escape, and her forehead burned. She just didn't know what to do at the time. Vesta had gone to the city to buy seeds, and Marlin… oh, Marlin. He was the cause of all this. Just a while ago, though she didn't know how the exact time, they were in the shed when…

Her mind tried to recap and shape into the events of her most recent memory, but the pills disallowed her to do so. Instead, she doubled over in pain, gagging to hold her throw-up in. Celia didn't even know what the pills were for. At the time, her tears blinded her from reading the prescriptions…but she didn't care. They were supposed to take the pain away. That's what they were for, weren't they? People didn't make pills to hurt themselves…

Did they?

Spots suddenly spewed into her eyes and she rubbed furiously at them with her knuckles to take them away. However, instead of reducing the army of dots, they only accumulated wider. Wider… wider… they appeared to be devouring her.

Finally she clamped her eyes shut, screaming a long-deserved scream. She fell to her knees and felt her throat clog, stopping only to take a long, deep breath.

_Marlin… why? _

**xoxo**

Muffy sat up slowly, peering around like a cat stuffed in a cave just roused. She felt so out of place. Everything was just wrong. Her heart felt misplaced— gone, even. And though she was cluttered with tears and the bones and blood she was forced to nurture, she felt empty inside. It was as if a bomb had been placed under her skin, gone off, and left nothing but an empty shell…

That entire year had been supposedly perfect… was this to be the day marked hell? Was this the milestone in which her life fell apart… again?

No, it couldn't be. Because that year _hadn't _been perfect. Just by looking him in the eye (and not being eyed back), she could tell things were slowly changing. Quickly, slowly— they were just changing. But to her mind, all was rapid and lightning-paced.

For the first part, when Marlin had gotten the nerve to ask her out, all was well. More than well… splendid. Wonderful. Ethereal. Heaven. To Muffy, at least. As the seasons changed, problems spawned. And though the couple hadn't fought once, Muffy could see the relationship falling in plain sight. She did all she could to sustain it… spend as much time with Marlin as she could, fondle and kiss him exceedingly, and keep a close eye on him. In an aggressive way, even.

She believed that the kiss— Marlin and Celia's kiss— had been the cause of all that. She had been clingy and pushy and a green-eyed, blonde-haired monster. She grew protective and unlike herself, until all her boyfriend could see was one very messy mess. All this happened… out of desperation. Out of desperation of herself.

Because no matter how hard she looked, Muffy could never find herself. She was lost in her own world… like she was the main character of the video game, and she couldn't find the right controls. She was a ventriloquist-less puppet. An empty, ripping mannequin.

She fell back against the ground, feeling a lump grow laxly on her head as she did so. The tears were still coming, and they appeared to be forming quicker than their average momentum. They flowed, they streamed, and they just wouldn't stop…

Her arms pulled over her blonde locks, which were quick turning damp.

_Please end this soon… please make it all just go away, _she begged, and she hoped that someone, somewhere, would receive the message, think about it like no one had before, and fulfill it.

Of course… no one ever would.

No one could hear her…

But herself.

**xoxo**

Gwen shoved protectively against the wall, feeling her chest tighten. _No, no, no! __Now what the hell am I going to do?! _she thought in frantic panic. One step back was all it took to give away her presence.

"Well, we caught up with her," the poncho-wearing man pointed out.

The one in the baseball cap sighed. "It's kind of late, Jamie."

_Jamie. Why does that name seem familiar? _Gwen suddenly felt dubious. _There are a lot of people out there named Jamie, idiot. This isn't a little village in the middle of nowhere anymore. This is the world you've been cowering from. Grow up. _

"Why'd you run?" the one named Jamie suddenly demanded, making Gwen rear back defensively.

"Why'd you chase me?" she challenged in reply.

Jamie folded his arms, like she was a child. "Jack," he muttered in his fatherly voice, "she's not gonna give us answers."

"What are we gonna do with them if she does?" Jack asked, making Jamie look incredulously at him.

"Whose side are you on?"

"What, you think just because I'm going to some stupid new farm with you it means I have to agree with you about everything? Yeah, right!" Jack scoffed. He turned to face Gwen, who mentally prepared herself for an attack. But what happened was one thing she had not predicted. "Hey, you're cute."

She recoiled in shock. "Excuse me?" she demanded, offended.

"What's your name?"

A fuse inside her lit and bombed. She shot forward like a snake claiming its prey. "Shut up!" she snapped. "You don't know me! You don't know me at all!" For some reason, this angered her beyond belief. And for another, it reminded her of Dan…

"Let's end this," Jamie said through a sigh submerged in weariness, and Gwen brought a violent glare upon him. The message she received was one of murder, so she armed herself, one fist raised. "…What the hell are you doing?" was the reply he had produced, staring.

Gwen lowered her naked knuckles, feeling tense all over. "I have some questions," she said in the most threatening voice she could find inside of her. "And you're going to answer them."

Jamie and Jack exchanged glances, Jack stage-whispering, "What colour is your underwear, Jamie?" Gwen felt her teeth clench stealthily, drawing in for the kill.

"Shut the fuck up, you," she hissed tersely, her words dispersing like blood. "I might just carve out your stinkin' little…" Her head turned and she found a little boy, looking no older than six, staring back at her with large, bulging blue eyes. She hesitated, remembering how city people didn't believe in privacy or personal space, and bristled. "Will you answer a question?" she asked in a more composed tone.

"That's a better way to put—"

"Stuff it, Jack," Jamie shot at him, and Gwen felt a surge of respect for the man. He turned to face her. "What is it?"

"Well, I was just wondering—" She stopped mid-sentence to gear her head towards the little boy, who was still staring at her expectantly. "Mind your own business, brat!"

She continued when he turned away, tears looming in his eyes.

"Where is this train headed?"

Jamie opened his mouth to reply but the opposing man interrupted, annoyingly amused. "You mean you don't know?"

_Obviously I don't know, otherwise I wouldn't be asking, dumb shit! _She simmered down her words and uttered a simple, placid, "No."

"So you've stepped onto a _train_, and you have no idea where it's gonna stop? No idea at all?"

"I SAID: NO." In an attempt to calm herself, she wrapped her arms around her stomach. "Are you going to answer me sensibly or should I leave?"

"We'll answer you," Jamie cut in hastily. "We're heading northbound to Forget-Me-Not Valley. My fr— companion and I are going over there to be the new farm—"

"I don't care."

Gwen realized that, being a traveler, she had to travel lightly. And knowing about people, making friends, learning things… that would all burden her to the soil. She couldn't take what she already didn't have.

"I'm going to sit down now. Don't follow me." She bit back an "or else" and trailed to the farthest seat in the very back. When she looked up, Jack was giving her a disturbed look in the distance.

She gritted her teeth at him and snapped her head towards the window, her vision now fogged by aligning trees and landscapes.

Already, hate spawned.

But more importantly than hate… was what became of it.

**xoxo**

Murrey walked outside, scarfing the curry down his throat without rest. When he finished, he dropped the plate to the ground and advanced to his next destination: Carter and Flora's dig site. He knocked on the tent door wryly until it opened with pure irritation.

"Food," he hissed before Carter could utter a word.

Carter frowned. "You came to my tent in the middle of the snowfall, on a cold winter day, just to ask for—"

"_Food_," he repeated, starting to hate the villagers' constant hesitation. Something bubbled and burst inside his chest. "Give it to me."

"Now, listen; could you at least say it in a friendly manner? I mean, sure—"

The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, with soiled hands wrapped around his neck and ten pronged fingers digging into his skin. He choked on Murrey's clenching grip and struggled to pry off his wrists.

"I-I'll get you food," he choked in static. Murrey released him for a moment as Carter leapt to his feet and grabbed a hoard of clumpy substances on a plate. Murrey scanned it with little pleasure. "F-Flora made it," he stuttered as the beggar looked up to stare at him with the beadiest, most bloodshot eyes he'd ever seen. "It's—"

Quite literally, the words died in his throat. The plate was smashed against his knee, and a shard dug into his already clawed at neck. His body fell into a heap on the floor and all Murrey did was stare.

"I'm _hungry_," he growled, the ruffled hairs on his face itching. "Give me _food_." He tore through the tent, which was now soulless apart from himself. Crates capsized and shelves collapsed when he managed to gather a scarce collection of delicious-looking food. "I'll kill you," he whispered as he began to devour his new obtainments.

Only one thing was articulate, if only barely, throughout the air.

"I'm not afraid to kill you…"

**xoxo**

"Carter? Oh, Caaarter!" Flora said in a singsong voice as she neared the tent, a light skip in her walk. "You'll _never _believe what I found!"

Her tone of ecstasy was carried into the tent as she entered it, beaming. "I was just digging around in the eastern corner, when I heard this metal-to-metal sound. I looked down when I saw…"

Her entire face paled as the vision of destruction melted into her navy eyes. She stumbled back, letting out a short gasp when she noticed Carter on the floor below him. Tiny droplets of blood led from his neck to the ground, as if contaminating the tent and edging towards her. She took a terrified step back, next to intent on her actions.

Then a scream rippled the air and she found herself running, far from the dig site and far from Carter's body. What she could not cloak, however, was the sickly scent of death that leaked through her nostrils and just maybe, straight into her soul.


	4. The Rubiest Silver

A/N: Think this is filler material? Think again. Gwen is, if possible, going to play an even BIGGER role in the sequel. XD I just love that girl too much. I have the hugest, juiciest plot ever waiting in line, and you'll slowly discover the outcome. I can almost guarantee it'll be better than Her Name In Blood. (Then again, it wasn't that good anway o.O).

Totally off-topic, but I must ask. What are you being for Halloween, if you still have that little kid in you? I'm being a pimpette. If I can find some fake blood, I'll be a maneating pimpette.

**Disclaimer/Warning: **I don't own Harvest Moon, language. Just pretty much fluff.

Cold As Snow

"What am I doing? Why am I still here?" Gwen found herself whispering. Her twisting surroundings seemed to fade, and the only voice heard was her own. She was in her own world, her own world of thought, immune to every excerpt of existence around her.

"I'm supposed to be going to the city, aren't I? To restart life or whatever?" Confused tears rushed to her eyes. "Yet I'm taking a train to… Whatever Valley. This isn't what I'm supposed to be doing. What _am_ I doing?"

She looked up instinctively, and a grin broke her from her air of thoughts. A flirty smile was brought her way from the one named Jack. Anger replaced angst and her fists clenched reflexively.

"What would Dan do?" she asked herself, forcefully quiet. Her trembling fist led to her fingers, which were slender and pale. A silver, gleaming band around her fourth sent forth to her an urge, meld between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry.

Jack's smile was wrong. And she hated him for it. Right now, she hated everything.

She stroked the gemless silver ring, her eyes brimming with water. One thing led to another, and who knew what would've become of her departing…

**xoxo**

"Dan… Dan?"

Gwen walked through the fall scenery like a bride approaching the altar. And though she felt just as nervous, she was far from excited. All the cheery, happy, positive energy felt almost zapped out of her the instant she'd shed her pen under the Mora Tree, looking up to see Dan's face. He seemed to have been there the whole time… waiting for her, watching her, patiently. She was only glad he wasn't close enough to see the letter.

But if she approached things from a different angle, a part of her couldn't help but wish he could've seen it. It would save her from explaining. Now, she'd have to break his heart face-to-face… she'd considered telling him in a letter and then leaving, but she wasn't that heartless. Either way, she was crushing him. And though far from relation with a one-way road, all paths lead to a dead end.

Pain was the ultimate outcome.

"You rang?"

She turned around, surprised. "Dan?"

He went up to her, snug in his wheelchair, a faint, almost meek grin on his face. "May I pry?"

It took her a moment to realize he was asking her a question. She braced herself for what would come. "You may," she answered mockly, trying to stay as calm as possible. Jittery pounding thrummed in her stomach, so she plastered a meaningless smile on her face and let her ears fall deaf momentarily.

"… here?" was the only thing she heard when her mind switched back on.

"Huh?" she said automatically, sheepish as Dan sighed.

"You weren't even listening, were you…" he murmured, as if he already knew. "I guess there's no point in a long, deep speech."

She blushed. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Just, yeah…I… I think I know your decision."

"Dan, it's not like that," she blurted out before she could stop herself. _Like what? What isn't it like? _She challenged herself. _What do you know? _

"You're leaving, aren't you?" he continued, surprisingly softly speaking for someone on the verge of crying. She'd seen it once, and she didn't want to see it again.

"I— no, Dan," Gwen found herself saying, on the brink of smacking herself. "Of course I'm not. Why would I…" Her words died in her throat when she saw Dan looking up at her knowingly. She hung her head, as if shameful. "I am not a liar."

"So then tell me truth."

"I—I'm leaving."

She said it. There. She said it. The burden was off her shoulders now. Gone. She shouldn't have felt a thing.

But she did. And it hurt.

Dan's face was contrary to how Gwen imagined it. She knew, just because she did, that Dan would not be the kind to scream at her and freak out. She thought he'd cry, admit things sadly, and roll away. But instead he was smiling.

"I'm happy."

The words bowled her over. "Excuse me?" Hurt flitted her face. He was happy about her leaving…?

Dan shook his head solemnly. "Not like that. I mean, I'm just happy that… you've finally found some direction in life. You can only get so far here, even if it is your home."

"My home," she repeated gently. "It _is _my home."

Though Dan knew nothing of her past, he pressed on. "So, what are you aiming for?"

"A degree in psychology…"

A heavy silence ensued, and everything seemed to darken.

"What about you?"

Dan didn't hurry to reply. "You might not know why I'm here," he said quietly, ignoring her question. "I… I need to tell you something."

"What?!"

One word lingered in her ears. One gruesome, sickening word; the tale and conclusion of every untold life… death.

"Did you know that I love poetry?"

She stopped and glared stonily up at him. "Ass, you had me totally going there!" she snapped.

Dan chuckled. "Sorry, I guess I just killed the atmosphere."

Gwen found herself puzzled. "What atmosphere?"

"You know…"

"The angst?"

He looked estranged, so she added hastily, "Never mind. Finish, please."

_That _killed the atmosphere.

"Gwen, what do you think of… romance?"

Gwen was greatly surprised. She bit back an "Um, what?" and searched herself for a sensible answer. Maybe even a half-truthful one, because she'd never even thought of such a thing. Even when she knew…

"Are we… an item?"

Again, she was shocked with how forward Dan was being. But thinking about his most recent question, she began to ponder it. _Are we? _

"Please… answer me."

Her eyes scanned his, as if desperately. All joking, silly, teasing intentions were wiped clear. He was genuinely…

She didn't know the word. But there was something those eyes told; a tale greater than death. Was it… love?

"Dan," she croaked, her throat dry. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to ask you a question." He didn't even sound frustrated. "What am I to you, Gwen?"

A little smile appeared on her lips, as if saying _Haha, you're so funny Dan. You little joker… cut that out. _She wanted so badly to say it, just to lighten the mood. Never had she felt more uncomfortable… save the time she chopped off his fingers…

"I… you're speechless." He looked devastated, and her emotions synchronized as he pulled away. "I guess you don't know. I guess… I should get going."

He pivoted and wheeled away, and Gwen felt herself staring after him. Though her eyes were blank as a sheet of paper, they were far from empty.

"Wait."

He looked over his shoulder in affirmation of her voice. Instead of causing the trouble of making him turn back around, she walked up to him. Inside she swivelled in fear of where the conversation was leading, but outside she was strong, acid… all the things she was supposed to be.

"You're something," she told him, vaguely but meaningfully. "Way something."

"…I see." He was silent for a while, and she found herself faltering.

_Did I just mess up again? Was that the wrong answer? _For the first time in a long time, she did something she had never meant to do, yet always yearned to.

"I love you, Dan."

_Oh Goddess, gag-gag. I bet he's gonna start laughing at inopportune moments like he always does now. I already feel like a loser, oh kill me… _

The reply was uncalled for. "I love you too, Gwen."

She was suddenly staring at a pair of smiling lips. He pushed toward her, and his feet started shuffling. She stared, awed.

"Um, are you okay?"

He ignored her. Just kept shuffling. And then finally, he boosted himself out of the chair, shaky on his two feet.

Her mouth fell agape. "What are you doing, you stupid, disabled moron? Sit down before I kick you down!"

Instead, Dan's grin just grew wider. He began to creak downward, and she thought he was lessening a fall, so she dove at him.

"Are you okay? Are you okay?" she cried, frantic now.

Dan pried her hands off of him lightly. "Gwen," he finally said seriously.

"What… what is it, idiot? I'm trying to help, can't you tell… oh. Oh, oh wow…" She began to fan herself in a useless attempt to reduce the heat flooding to her.

Dan was on his knee. He was pulling something out of his pocket.

Dan was fucking proposing.

"It's tradition," he said, his voice loud and clear among the air, "to propose with a blue feather. I think you'd already know that, though."

She didn't know what to say. And for a second, she forgot how to breathe, as he pulled out something from his pocket— no doubt a feather. It was slim, and blue as blue. But most of all, it was… beautiful.

"Then again, though," Dan continued, "I think it's a rather kooky tradition myself. So I went and got you this ring too." Out came the silverest, shiniest, sleekest ring she'd ever seen. There was something different about it though— there was no gem. No diamond. Nothing.

"A bit plain, I guess." He shrugged. "But I made it myself. You know how I said I was interested in blacksmithing? Well, call that my first shot."

She stepped forward and, without even thinking, took the ring, absorbing its features. Dan was right— it _was _pretty plain. But it just looked so natural, so new, so… deep. It meant more than the reddest ruby, greenest emerald, bluest sapphire, largest diamond…

"Yes," she found herself whisper, straight from her heart.

Dan looked incredulous for a moment. Incredulous with joy. "Say what?"

"Yes," she repeated herself, a little louder.

"What?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes."

"…What?"

"I said yes, dumbass!" Instead of apologizing this time, Gwen laughed loudly, all fear and nervousness gone. With not a care in the world on her mind, she just kept laughing. "Thank you, Dan…"

"No, thank _you_."

But her face suddenly went serious. "Dan, I'm sorry for the buzz kill, but how's this gonna work?"

He looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I… I already told you I'm leaving, Dan."

"Yeah, so?"

"Don't tell me this is a…" She felt suddenly sick. "Oh Goddess, please tell me this is not a bribe to make me stay here." She turned away, nausea pulsing. "I feel sick."

"Gwen!"

She looked at him. He was stricken.

"Don't even think that!"

And almost instantly, she didn't.

"I'll write you," he told her. "Even if I can never find you, I'll write you, and I'll get all the letters to you if no one else can. Please don't run away just because we'll be apart. This… this'll work out."

"I don't run away. I said yes, and I'm not going back on my word" She took a deep breath. "I am not a liar."

They were still for a moment, and Dan suddenly smiled wide. "So you're leaving, like, super soon, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, the wedding's in two hours. Let's go!"

Her mouth fell open. "WHAT?"

"Yeah, I knew you needed time to pack and everything, so I took a risk and had things prepared beforehand. The villagers think I'm some random traveler and that you're my random traveling fiancé of six months. Hurry it up, will you?"

He settled back onto the wheelchair pushed off on his tires. Gwen stepped forward, her head spinning. "Where are you going?"

He looked back. "Don't you know it's bad luck to see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding?"

Gwen tossed her head back and laughed. "Of course. How could I forget?"

**xoxo**

She rubbed the ring on her finger, then slid it off to stare at it. It meant so much to her. It was Dan's gift. (No way in hell was she gonna wear a feather on her finger.) He chose to give it to her on his own will, he chose to. He loved her…

Her hand pressed against the window glass.

He was a thousand miles away…

An abrupt screech roused her from her trance and she looked up, bewildered. "What was that?"

Jamie was first to reply.

"We've arrived at Forget-Me-Not Valley."


	5. Thoughts Crossed

A/N: Hey again. This week's been really busy… not just loads of detention for me to look forward to, but at-home stuff too. And Halloween coming up… well, that's not really a big issue, since everything seems to get less festive each year. Or maybe that's just _my _gloomy perspective. All of my other fics are screaming to be updated too. But this is my first priority so… uh, yay.

Thank you Ultra Drama Queen, HarvestMoonGlows, Radioactive X-Naut, MyShadowsThorn, and The Scarlet Sky for reviewing either chapters 3, 4, or both. Each of your reviews totally inspire me to write. Speaking of which, I have the next chapter planned out. This story isn't gonna follow as much horror-ness as the prequel. Still some gore and murder here and there, but mainly emotion.

**Warning/Disclaimer: **Don't own HM. I don't suppose hell is such a mean, naughty word, so besides that there's not really any swearing. A tad sexual-reference thing at the beginning. No violence or gore or whatnot either. I'm getting really weak… haha, I'll make up for it in the next instalment.

But for now, here is chapter five.

(By the way, I know it's a bit early, but Happy Halloween from your fellow horror writer!)

Cold As Snow

"…And I was like, any time for you, babe. And she smiled and held out her hand— you have no idea how bad that turned me on. So I took it, yeah, and she led me to the…"

Griffin cleared his throat uncomfortably, and several people looked over at him. The storyteller stopped at once.

"Well, Griffin?" Kassey asked, an alcoholic scent seeping from his lips as they parted. He drew up dangerously close, until the air grew thick and venomous with the strong liquid's presence. "Not interested in my story?"

Griffin tried not to cower. It would lower his reputation all too badly, especially considering he owned the bar and would have to face its regular customers night after night. Nonetheless, picking a fight with a drunken man was never a smart idea.

Drunken… once, he peered into Kassey's smoky eyes. Through the smoke he saw an enraged, stressed, wasting old fool. But if he dug deeper, deeper… he saw a confused, lost young child. He'd never seen the second side of the frightening man. And partly, he didn't believe it was there.

"Kassey." His tone was firm. "You've drunk too much. I have to ask you to leave."

Kassey looked incredulous, but didn't falter. "'Scuse me?" he demanded, his voice ringing up danger. A step that brought him grazing into Griffin's chest quickly alienated him. "Whuddid you say?"

Though it wasn't the first time something like this had happened; he was scared. But Griffin stood tall, towering over the shorter man like a bear. 'I said—"

"Hey!"

His eyes narrowed and fit a path that cleared for Patrick, Kassey's brother. He weaved through the crowd of onlookers, stopping before his sibling.

"We're going home," he said simply.

Kassey bristled. "YOU AIN'T THE BOSS O'—"

"Yeah, yeah, save it!" Unlike Griffin, Patrick didn't bother to give him a say. He grabbed him roughly by the arm, immune to the frantic kicks volleying against his leg like machine-gunfire.

Alas, they trailed out of the bar, its inhabitants looking on wordlessly. The instant the door swung shut behind the brothers, the room exploded into chatter, and the topic of interest quickly averted to the time Kassey went all the way to Mineral Town to buy a ring. He was last seen hovering by the entrance of the Blue Bar, for the first time looking contemplative. Then Muffy called him over and he simply pivoted and walked all the way back to his home.

And it was rumour that when he got there, he threw a fit, broke shelves, overturned tables… and cried.

Griffin couldn't even imagine such a thing.

He looked up the path leading to Muffy's room, unsure of whether or not it was smart to go to her. Just by the stiff formation of her shoulders, and the glossy restrain in her green eyes, he could tell what had happened. Another heartbreak. _Another_.

He shook his head. As much as he loved her, she was so naïve…

Ah. The word. Love. He'd have to avoid it from now on.

A sudden glass-against-metal sound pierced his ears and his head snapped up, startled. It followed by heavy thumping sounds and he found himself automatically climbing the ladder stairs to her room.

Closer, closer…

Why was his heart pounding?

**xoxo**

As the train pulled to a stop, Gwen realized her head was resting against the windowpane. She pulled it back and touched the side of her face, feeling cold. Then she looked outside and her chest clenched.

It was snowing.

"It's only fall the third, isn't it?" she heard Jack yell in uproar. "What's with the white stuff?"

Jamie answered his blatant reasoning. "There's something called time difference and climate difference, moron. Get out more."

Jack ignored him and waited as the automatic doors slid open. "Well, we'd better get going now. Stupid snow… how are we gonna farm?"

Gwen watched as the two put on quite a squabble and numbed in her seat. Would she exit with them, after them, at all? Should she stay put and wait for the train to take her back?

So many decisions— and she couldn't pick any.

"Hello?"

She looked up and saw a woman dressed in a purple blazer and nametag staring down at her. "May I see your ticket, Miss?" she asked in a perfect English accent.

Gwen's face was blank at first. "Ticket?" _Damn, damn, damn. _"Who are you?"

She looked annoyed. "The ticket checker?" The question-like punctuation was emphasized with more sass than enquiry— like, _"Ticket checker? Duh? What do you think?" _

"Oh." Gwen looked for a safe way out. Automatically, she scanned the space just beyond the woman's shoulder, but her blood thinned.

There was a shadow behind one of the seats. A thick, blobbing, grey outline. But of what? Of _who? _The shadow rose and a being began to bloom into view, but fear forced her to turn her head.

"This is my stop, I'm gonna be late," she muttered in a rushed tone, not caring how unconvincing her acting was.

Oblivious to the woman's yells, she dashed out of the train compartment, the doors snapping shut just seconds after.

Gwen looked up, taking in the _real _cold for the first time. There was a frostiness in the air that pinned through the fabric of her clothes, and a slight wind that felt sharp as knives. Flakes of snow fell from the sky, mum, like a motion movie production put on mute. The sky's colour she could not fathom between rising grey or falling blue. Everything was so quiet, yet far from peaceful. She felt like anyone could jump out at her at any given moment… at any given time…

"HEY!!!"

She jumped at the sound, glowering when Jack came into view. He was grinning. Again.

"Aren't you going to come?" he asked.

Gwen was taken aback. "With you, never," she answered bitterly.

"Well, suit yourself." To her surprise, he didn't argue with her; just kept walking down the road.

And when he was gone, the train pulled away, and Gwen felt herself all alone in the snow.

She blinked, sorting out her options. Even though she had all that time during the train ride, her mind was too occupied to think properly. That was just like her— leaving all the important things to rot in her brain last minute.

"Well," she mused to herself, "I guess I'll have to find a place to stay first."

Her legs let her wander all the way to a large, homey brown building in the town's core. The Inner Inn, the sign said. She somehow managed to strike up a deal with the plump lady in charge. The story was, she was a traveler looking for a place to stay, and she got a free trial of the room for two weeks. Then she was free to go— of course, she said she would pay before that. And of course, of course she wouldn't really.

She passed the doors that aligned the Inner Inn's second floor placid walls, stopping when she saw her number on one of the bolted plates. She laid her hand on the doorknob, but instantly her skin went cold.

A hand touched her shoulder.

The image of the shadow from the train seeped into her mind and she lashed around, breathing heavily. Her breath drew in when she saw merely a boy, blonde and wide-eyed, staring back at her. He seemed her age, appearing to be weighing his options as well, because it was only after a few awkward moments that he pulled his hand back.

"Uh—" His voice was like a child's. Yet his eyes were read like… "My name's Rock."

Gwen stared at him for a few seconds. He looked back at her, appearing disturbed.

"Oh yeah. Gwen."

They stared at each other. Gwen considered shaking his hand, or smiling, or performing any type of greeting that wouldn't make Rock think of her as some kind of hostile alien. But her mind was blank, and her skin chilling.

"I should go."

"Oh— right." He looked to his side, then his eyes wandered back to hers. "Um, do you need help unpack—"

"No."

Barely catching note of the surprise on his face, she slipped into her room and shut the door solidly. She didn't look around before collapsing on her bed, ripping out a single object out of her only bag. A photo. Of her and Dan.

Funny how one little thing could mean so, so much.

She hugged it to her chest, at the same time letting her tears flow to her pillow.

"I'm so stupid. Why'd I go?" she whispered. Then she rolled over in bed, realizing where she was for the first time. "Forget-Me-Not Valley…"

A tight, stinging feeling returned to her chest.

"What am I doing here?"

**xoxo**

_Rain… I can tolerate rain. I kind of like it, even. I mean, it can be so melodic, with upbeat and downbeat rhythmic patterns…_

"But this isn't rain, is it?" Nami snapped to herself, her eyes glacious as they settled upon the crystalline window before her. She watched as snow fell gently from the heavens, reaching out as they landed soundlessly to the soil. _How can such tiny little flakes pack into mounds so… big? _Perhaps exploring, she leaned forward and pulled open the window with a snap. Then she blinked as the puffs of snow came clearer into view.

She continued to observe the descending white blankly, and though she was in a peaceful frame of mind, she couldn't help but feel unnerved. There was just this inner feeling— _very _inner, coiling around her core— that alerted her. She couldn't watch one snowflake flee without having a black feeling seep into her. Something, in short, was wrong… and she hated how she couldn't tell what it was. The only thing she was aware of, however, was the fact that it was there, and that wasn't explaining much.

Then it happened. Right when she was staring out the window, toward the clouds and snow— it just happened. Her surroundings appeared to contort, and she felt as if she were sweltering hot. She didn't even stumble; she didn't even panic. She just fell forward… and fainted.

**xoxo**

Marlin trudged out the door, pre-admonished fear accumulating instinctively inside him as he glanced around. At first his movements were stiff and intent, and his eyes steering back and forth as he scanned the perimeter for a beggar. After a few tense moments, he let his guard down, somewhat reluctantly.

Murrey was nowhere in sight. And that was a good thing… for now.

He traveled through the snow and towards the Blue Bar, practicing would he was to say. _I'm sorry I kissed Celia right in front of you. _Was that right? It seemed that nothing, no words in the English dictionary, could make for a proper apology. _I hope you don't hate me that much. _

He didn't need to say that. He already knew she did.

**xoxo**

Finally she was in control again. Nami reacted in one swift movement, breathing hard in case she was on the verge of suffocating. Then coldness bit her flesh and she saw the open window in front of her. Her throat try and her ears deaf from paranoia, she whipped forward and brought the window down with such force its entire frame shook.

Fear thrummed up her chest and she instinctively snapped toward the door upon hearing knocking.

"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice shaking on treble.

She was trembling, and she knew it. All of a sudden there was an airlock feeling in her throat— like she was ensnared under a pool of icy, arctic water sealed with a thick platform of ice she could not thaw. In a similar fashion, she struggled to breath smoothly and a sinking feeling seized her.

There was a short pause, Nami holding her breath as she awaited movement. Finally, a distinct male's voice sounded.

"Nami? Its Rock," came the reply, somewhat awkwardly. "I was just gonna ask if you wanted to do something, but… you sound kind of—"

She stepped aside, taking in a gulp of air. Then she opened the door a crack, tingles running through her spine. "Rock?" she said, barely above a whisper. She watched him as if ready to divulge him in a huge, hidden secret.

"Nami?" he answered, looking like he'd seen murder. His face was stencilled with concern. "Are you okay? You look really—"

"Pale," she finished for him. "I'm always pale."

She braced herself in case Rock made contact with her. Luckily, he stood still.

"I'm busy. What do you want?"

He seemed to relax upon hearing Nami's more familiar, constantly annoyed tone, though there was still a slight waver in his voice. "Wanna hang out?"

Nami scowled at such a query. She opened her mouth to release an answer with coated sarcasm. "No, Rock," she began, words doused with contempt, "I just said I was busy. Obviously I do not want to hang—"

A sudden snap inside her body made her freeze completely. She staggered forward when her limbs gave out, however coming back to and jerking away before Rock's open arms could receive her. Her head pounded, her skin felt cold as steel, and fear consumed her at that one instant.

She realized she was panting when she drew back only seconds later, the cold shock's aftereffects dizzying her. All was utterly numb— unable to distinguish whether or not the jolt had been physical or morale. She paled further, her skin burning.

Rock's expression creased rapidly. "Nami?!" was heard through a voice of utmost terror. "What the hell just—"

Nami's response was quick, however. Instead of inventing a placid excuse, she slammed the door and fell against it, sweating and unable to contemplate any of the recent events.

_The fainting. The falling. What just happened? No… _why

She sensed Rock's still body beyond the wall and palmed her face in her hands, beginning to sob. The tears fell off her trembling cheeks instantly.

_What… what the hell is wrong with me? _

**xoxo**

Somewhere in the distance, through the paper-thin walls of the inn, Gwen heard a door slam.

"People here sure get moody," she murmured, thoughtful.

Her eyes grew heavy lidded when she turned back to the photo in her hands, forgetting the commotion completely. She moved forward and put it delicately on the nightstand to her left.

Motionlessly, she stared at it— and she only wished Dan would appear in more than just animated film.

**xoxo**

**After-read spoilers: **Well, HarvestMoonGlows mentioned Nami in their review, and I was like oh my god, how could I forget my favourite AWL girl? So I just threw her in and now she's one of the main characters. Haha.


	6. Just Scream

A/N: Sorry for the terribly slow update. I was just confused about the plot because I have so many ideas and I can't possibly use them all, so I'm looking for an alternative… no worries though. It's the long weekend, so I have more time to write and stuff.

Also, for all of you who didn't know, Her Name In Blood's alternate sequel is up. This isn't intended to be shameless advertising, but if you're interested, knock yourself out.

Continuing now, this chapter deals a lot with emotion. There's been a lot of that lately… and please don't think I'm taking a break from gore. There will be a nice helping of it in the next chapter, promise.

Yep, so, thank you HarvestMoonGlows, Axenild, The Scarlet Sky, Radioactive X-Naut, and MyShadowsThorn for reviewing.

**Disclaimer/Warning: **I don't own Harvest Moon, language, a little itty bite-sized bit of gore.

Cold As Snow

Finding his heart thrashing, head spinning, and mind racing, Griffin stopped climbing for the first time.

He looked up. Then down.

He was halfway down… or up the ladder. Right in the middle. Smackdab between a one-way road. It was rather unnerving; a single step would determine which path he would take.

Would he climb all the way up the ladder to Muffy's room, awaiting a tearful, broken, devastated girl?

Or would he step down and walk back to the front of the bar, immediately resuming conversation and drinking, having such thoughts forgotten in the swig of a beer?

A violent crash rang through the hollow air, louder this time. Instinctively, Griffin snapped toward the attic door, cheek shoved against it in panic. He was just about to wrench it open without a single pending thought when he heard the unmistakable sound of…

Crying.

It didn't sound like music. It didn't sound like crystals clinking delicately against each other. It sounded like sadness, sadness that delivered pain to his heart.

Gently but surely, he pulled open the door. He took a small, delicate step forward, but diminished when he saw the back of Muffy's head. She faced the wall, everything but her back hidden.

Griffin stopped, dangling on his feet. He didn't know what to do— yet there was no turning back around and walking away. He wasn't even sure if the crestfallen barmaid had _heard _him, if she even noted his presence. If she even cared if she did…

Barely audible chants were heard and he leaned in to hear.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid…" Muffy was whispering, cradling her knees in her arms as she rocked back and forth.

Griffin didn't know what to say. She just looked so… small. So… broken. Like a baby, she was so vulnerable. And it was shameful, because she didn't even try to conceal her fragility. It was pitiful, everything about such a sight.

"Do you know what it's like?"

Somehow, through his staring, he managed to hear her squeak. Her words were so scratchy and hoarse, yet her voice moist with all the tears precipitated among it.

Realizing it was a question, though unsure if whether she was talking to him or not, he opted to remain silent. But what was about to come, he had not expected…

"Do you know what it's like to be used time and time again?"

Used. That was the word she'd decided to say— used. Griffin thought it was a bit harsh, but it was all still true.

He wanted to say something. He just didn't know what. Right now, he felt like he didn't know anything.

The shattered girl began to speak again, not disguising the fact that she felt so torn. "And after all that, only to be told you're not even good enough anymore? When all along you've been who you are?" Muffy was saying, her voice growing louder and clearer, along with her frail sobs.

Griffin tensed in his position. Again he felt like an intruder to her spoken thoughts. He wanted to know why she was telling him this— he felt unfit to hold such personal information. It felt wrong. He wanted her to stop.

But it wasn't about him, and she didn't.

"Even worse, to be told there's some other girl out there? That who she is, is better than who you are. Because no matter how hard you try…" Her throat grew raspy, forming a small silence. "It's not your decision."

Empathy was a terrible emotion. Despite the fact that you were never directly there to feel another's pain, to experience another's remorse, you felt what they felt. It was a burden you were deceived to hold. A burden you never wanted, never asked for, but had. Griffin hated it. He wanted to feel sorry for her, he wanted to hug her, but what he wanted most of all was her to just _stop crying_…

"Griffin," Muffy addressed him for the first time, "have you felt this way before?"

She turned and he saw teardrops roll off the sharp bridge of her nose. "Muffy…" was all he could say.

But then she smiled weakly, even though there was no reason to be smiling, and thousands of reason not to be. "It… hurts," she whispered. "Because no matter how loudly I scream, or how hard I cry, it's not changing anything. I'm not making myself a better person. I'm not making myself feel any better."

Griffin suddenly thrust forward, his passion ambiguously triggered. "Muffy, don't change," he uttered, with such force he wished words with stronger meaning could have been invented. He wished words that could describe exactly how he felt could be expressed. He hated how such a thing didn't exist.

Muffy smiled again, a bit more genuinely this time. "Everyone changes, Griffin," she told him softly. "Even if we don't want to… we change. I mean, look at you. Look at everyone in the village. We're all different one way or another. And in just a season, we'll be even more different."

"Muffy…" Griffin said again, more deflated this time. "That's… no…" His shoulders hunched. "That's not what I mean. What I mean is, you shouldn't change because of some guy. You should change because you think you should… don't listen to other people."

"If I shouldn't listen to other people, then who are you to say that?"

He felt immediately hurt, and Muffy seemed to recoil as well. Another tear slid down her cheek, and he died a little inside knowing he was the cause of it.

"I'm sorry. That's not what I mean either."

Griffin got an urge to go over to her and hug her. He didn't even object to himself, he didn't even try to. He took a solid step forward, anticipating her strengthening embrace, and felt his heart racing.

Just as he was about to fill in the dense gap between them, he heard a slam in the lower level.

"Muffy? Are you there?!"

Then her entire face turned white and her tears seemed to zap away. She turned still as a statue before whirling around, grabbing at her face, and screaming.

Griffin almost felt deaf. Oblivious to the lumbering feet closing in on them, and the sharp whistles from Muffy's mouth, he felt his insides crumble.

Empathy was indeed the ugliest emotion of all…

**xoxo**

A startling bang erupted from somewhere below her. Irked, she leaned in and gazed outside, nearly feeling frost's tongue tickle off the bridge of her nose. Both her eyebrows arched when a certain blonde-haired woman came scampering out of the Blue Bar, inept and foolish looking.

Without realizing, she pressed against the glass in a trance, furrowing her brow to distinguish the figure's identity.

The name came to her instantly. Muffy.

This only piqued her further. Her blue eyes were fixated on the shrunken barmaid as she thrust herself past the bar in a flourish. Though she looked unusually dishevelled, nothing of her appearance could disguise the dismal tears that traveled down her face, salty as the cool surface of the sea.

Muffy's mouth suddenly twisted open, and mute words were said at incomprehensive pace. By the look of despondence scrawled over every feature of her face, Nami could tell the words weren't fathomed pleasant.

A desolated feeling encrypted into her spine again and a light sensation reigned over her for a brief moment. By the time her head wasn't spinning and she looked up, Muffy was still screaming. Perplexed, she dismissed the minor ailment and pried the window open to get a better listen, though only able to make out the end of the discreet girl's tirade.

"_I don't care if the damn bar burns to hell! I don't care if all of you get killed in deep pools of blood! I hate you! I hate you all!" _

Scorn embittered her words and Nami felt overcome by shock. Speaking of which, one passed through her all of a sudden…

Bleak words pierced the sky. _"I don't care if I die, I don't care if I get run over by the largest horse in the history of mankind. Why does it happen? Why does it happen every time? Don't even answer me, Griffin--!" _

Her wrist twitched in an attempt to shut the window and deafen her ears, but she could barely move. Her bones and skeleton grew tense and she suddenly felt paralysed. Chained, bolted to the air…

"_Kill me! Destroy me! Stab me, now! …NO, don't scream at me! Just kill me! I don't care anymore! I couldn't care less! …No! I'm sick of you always yelling, I'm sick of the bar! I'm sick of this whole damned Valley! YOU'RE ALL SICK, TWISTED, FUCKING PEOPLE!"_

Muffy was now shaking her head violently, wild curls thrashing and untamed. She stumbled back on her heels and shadows of words penetrated the thick, whitened air. She took off gracelessly, Nami staring after her gradually decreasing figure.

She caught a glimpse of Muffy glancing her way but fell out of sight before anything else could happen.

Now panting hard, she was feeling as though she'd just seen something she shouldn't have seen. It was an ominous, chill feeling, and now it was playing with more than just her mind…

An awful ache drilled into the side of her head, and she could almost feel the metaphor. Collapsing and biting her tongue until it bled just to hold in a scream, her knees closed against her stomach on the ground.

"What is this…?" she asked herself weakly.

Then there was a knock on the door.

"Nami? Can I come in?"

She clutched her stomach, trying to speak. "No," she managed to hiss, sounding more like she was whistling.

"…Please? I have to talk to you."

She pressed into her side, feeling like another presence was inside of her, thrashing around and trying to rip out of her skin. "NO!" she screamed louder, pounding inside.

"Fine." The response was abrupt and pained. "I'll just leave then."

There was a quiet, and they didn't leave.

"It's dark. Why are you still up and making such a commotion?"

Nami knew he was trying to guilt her. But she was feeling far too battered and screwed up to retort, or even feel angry. "Leave…!" she grunted, throwing her shrivelling body against the door.

There was a small silence, and then an unsuspected pound against the wall. Nami jumped from her position on the ground.

"THERE YOU GO AGAIN, NOT EVEN BOTHERING TO EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE ME. I'M JUST TRYING TO HELP, NAMI!" An immature curse word. It all ended with, "You just have to be such a bitch with everything, don't you?" yet in a much softer, defeated tone. "You just can't accept the fact that you're not alone, right? Well, I guess I should go. I'm not wanted here."

Feeling a bit less tortured, she listened as Rock's feet shuffled and silenced chronologically. She closed her eyes.

"You don't understand, Rock… I never asked for this…"

**xoxo**

Flora stopped running once she was a good distance away from the dig site. She clutched her heart, panting as it kept beating.

This shock… this horror… was unbearable. She couldn't explain how she felt. It was at a cross between devastated and disbelieving.

Consider this. Imagine someone that you've known for so, so long. A person you've quickly developed acquaintance with, that you were so used to seeing day after day, that you knew in-and-out regardless of whether they wanted you to or not.

Now, imagine them with blood running down their lips, with their lifeless, slaughtered bodies branded against the ground.

Imagine the confusion you would feel if you'd seen them alive and perfectly fine just hours before.

And lastly, imagine the terror you'd feel if you saw the assassin who'd destroyed such an acquaintance coming up the path, looking your way and smiling with all his stanching teeth in view.

_Would you scream?_

**xoxo**

**After-read spoilers: **You must think I'm going insane, because I'm still in the prologue area. I don't wanna be here either, you know! But I'll crawl my way out… (eventua— ah, fuck it, not even gonna bother XD)

Oh, and if it wasn't obvious, Griffin's in love with Muffy. Nothing new, but just confirming it.


	7. Let it Snow

A/N: I've been really terrible at updating, haven't I? Ah well, the story's still up and running. This chapter isn't very long… but it is the most important one to date. Thank you to everyone for reviewing and supporting, though regardless I'll definitely keep updating!

**Disclaimer/Warning: **I don't own Harvest Moon or the song 'Let it Snow.' Lots of language, some violence too.

Cold As Snow

"Ah; just you, me, and four channels of satellite TV! Isn't this the _life_?"

Jamie watched darkly as his rival plummeted onto the couch, sinking into its cushy fabric so deeply he left an imprint. His hand furled into a fist tentatively, but he didn't reply.

_Whoever said easygoing, fun, optimistic people were ideal friends/likable/popular… were dead fucking wrong. _

Jack bounced childishly, stray pillows billowing up into the air and plopping to the ground, light as feathers. "I suppose farmers are supposed to be able to adapt though. After all, we're in this together, so we can get through this. Huh? Huh? Am I right?" He elbowed Jamie at each query, who had been wincing and gritting his teeth at 'together.'

_Please die, _was the black-hearted's only thought.

"What's the matter, Jamie? You look sad. You should be excited. Aren't you excited?" Jack blinked, feigning oblivious excitement. "It's gorgeous outside! Haven't you forgotten? It's fall, the busiest time of the year…the time of changes and fun, fun, fun!"

_He's doing this on purpose…_

A snowball smacking against the windowpane brought forth Jack's inspiration. "Oh yeah, I forgot, it's winter here!" His eyes lit up, and his signature smile came about. "_Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful…_" he broke into song.

Jamie leered at him through eyes of ice blue, speaking for the only purpose of silencing him. "Don't you damn start—"

But the brown-haired farmer stood up, singing less than angelically—purposely mediocre, it seemed. His voice grew louder and cracked harder with each verse. "_And since we have no place to go…_"

Jamie's fist clenched harder, to the point where if he were holding a blade against his palm, blood would be everywhere by now. _Let it bleed…_he thought darkly, bracing himself for the chorus.

"Let it snow…"

_Let it bleed…_

"Let it snow…"

His skin boiled. _Let it snow… _he seethed, ready to strike Jack in the stomach upon the last verse.

"Let it… sn—"

SMACK.

Another crudely crafted snowball whipped against the window, but despite its ramming force, the glass neither cracked nor shattered. What it did trigger, however, was an angered Jamie, already angered to begin with. He ripped himself away from his position beside the couch and stampeded for the front door. Jack, who was intrigued and amused but too lazy to follow, merely poked his head out after him.

The door opened with a wild swing. "What the hell?" was Jamie's welcome greeting.

Before him stood a man—small was the word that best suited him. Scrawny would go for a good second. He was crouching down, in a position that would make your own back shiver and cringe, and even considering the snowy weather, he wore a tattered shirt that barely accounted for a shirt. A wifebeater, possibly—it was so ripped it was hard to tell. Black eyes, perfectly round, fit like a laser into Jamie's.

There was a moment of awkward silence, in which Jamie waited impatiently for the rather odd-looking man to speak. But he only continued to stare…

"Look," he snapped at last, still yearning to send a punch through Jack's stomach, "I don't have the time for this. Do you want something or not?" He bit back a visual insult, but just barely.

The stranger continued to look at him though, as if he were mesmerized. Just when Jamie was about to slam the door and swear at him in frustration, he reacted. A sly hand snaked out and—

And stopped midair, brought back to his side. As if he had merely stopped at the fork of the road and took a couple moments to decide which path to take, he turned around and started walking away. Jamie's eyes fixated on the man, disbelieving and confused.

Jack, who had been watching the entire time, let his voice ring loudly against Jamie's ears. "What was that all about?"

He shut the door, feeling his insides rise a few degrees centigrade. Reeling around bleakly, he felt tight in his abdomen as he met eyes with his rival for the first time since their arrival.

"What?"

"I hate you."

The words were said with no casualty. Definition exploded from his very tone, and elaboration from his bitterest glare. His skin prickled when he saw that Jack wasn't even fazed.

"We've already established this, dumbass," he said in that mock voice Jamie had come to despise.

He stood there, rigid with malice. _I hate you… _Darkness seemed to coat his words until he could see nothing, no one in the world but Jack. He tried to imagine a knife, digging slowly into his skin…

"But we're gonna have to get along if we work on this farm together, huh?"

That was it.

That was fucking _it_.

"WHAT FARM, YOU IDIOT? YOU CALL THIS A FARM?" Jamie roared, blue eyes prominent as they devoured what was in sight. "I SEE NOTHING BUT SNOW! YOU SIGNED ME UP TO COME TO A FARM AND SHOVEL SNOW!!!!"

Many expletives were said in between as he screamed and went on an entire tirade about what a donkey Jack was. At which point the inevitable came: Jamie insulted his fellow farmer's mother.

Jack's eyes had gone stony at this point. "Say that again," he dared, the joke in his voice lingering, but in an entirely different way. "SAY IT AGAIN."

Jamie smirked deviously, feeling his side winning. "I said you can go suck your momma's wiener because you're too much of a _pussy_ to understand what—"

In an instant, and a loud crash, they were down on the ground, wrestling and biting at each other to refrain from strangling. Jamie kicked and threw punches at him with all his might, but Jack held him down, infuriated.

"BASTARD!" he screamed, sparing no description. He slammed Jamie against the floorboards, hard, picking him back up in a headlock.

"BACK AT YA!" Jamie shrieked back, delivering a hard blow square at his jaw.

Jack flew back and smashed into a wooden chair, which doubled over and split in half.

The two were left panting, déjà vu filling into empty minds quick as miasma.

_Saibara…_

Jack, who was once the vicious, thoughtless one, realized this more deeply. His bruised face scrunched, constrained. "Not again—"

Jamie, however, now the selfless one, leapt to his feet, outraged. "THAT'S IT! THAT'S BLOODY _IT_! I'M SICK OF YOU AND YOUR IDIOTIC TACTICS! I'M SICK OF YOUR UGLY FACE AND YOUR TERRIBLE JOKES! I'M SICK OF YOUR EXISTENCE!" He kicked another chair to break the upcoming silence, which cracked and fell beside the first. "I'M NOT PUTTING UP WITH THIS SHIT. I THOUGHT YOU WERE A SHITBAG IN ONE TOWN AND I THINK YOU'RE A SHITBAG NOW."

He panted, his voice neutral now. Jack and all his hectic surroundings lost their tension and crumbled away in his mind.

"I'm leaving."

**xoxo**

Nami sat perched at the foot of her bed, just staring out the starlit window. There hadn't been many diamonds in the night sky for so long—so just being able to see the full view, not in a book, but in front of her face, was exhilarating. However, she kept the window closed shut and sealed tightly, afraid of what she might hear if she opened it again.

Her flaming red hair swirled and shone from her pale skin. The moon, bright and pale yellow as ever, illuminated the back of her hand. Dark shadows reached out and sent black stripes going across her skin, which she pulled back uncomfortably.

_I'm so paranoid right now… but I can't sleep… _Her chin inclined and she attempted to stare up at the moon. Looking at breathtaking sights always expanded her thoughts, let her mind run more freely… but the big round sphere was much too blinding, so she was forced to revert her gaze.

The sound of a door shutting, inevitably Rock's, seeing as it was a slam, sounded not too far away. She sighed, not only because of their recent and rather unsettling encounter, but because she didn't know what was going on with her. Usually she slept like a log at any time of the day—but now it was late at night and she wasn't even the slightest bit tired.

_You're paranoid from what happened, Nami_, she scolded herself. _Don't you know what a migraine is? _She picked up a pillow and smacked it against her face. _Ooh, poor Nami is scared that she has a little headache. Stupid Nami. _She hit herself a few more times before stopping abruptly, realizing what she was doing. With another sigh, the pillow fell and slid to the floor.

_I'm gonna go see if Rock's awake… not like I'm gonna apologize to him, but I just need to talk to someone… _She tiptoed across the floorboards, which creaked at her contact anyway. Sliding through the door and slinking down the hall, she raised one knuckle to rap on Rock's door when she heard a loud noise. Then, a familiar: _Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding._

It definitely wasn't a robber. A robber wouldn't have made it so clear they had just arrived. The sound was so deafening, it resonated through Nami's ears. Waves pulsed through her spinal cord and she felt compelled to see what had happened.

_Ding. Ding. Dingdingdingdingdingding. DING, DING, DING._

Tentatively, she travelled down the length of the stairs, peeking out coyly. Through her dark observation, she could see a man standing at the door. His facial expression was blocked out by the insistent shadows, but she could catch his body movement. He was slouched over at the counter, pecking at the desk bell in short intervals.

_Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. _

It looked ready to snap in half, so Nami was obliged to interfere. Revealing herself from behind the railing, she flipped the lights on and met the stranger's startled gaze with a glare.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

There was a silence, which Nami took as an opportunity to glare at him further.

"…Look, I need a room," he finally muttered, as if confessing.

"Or else what?"

He looked pissed, and she was amused. Her pale finger drifted to her side, leading the man up the stairs.

"First room on the left. You can use my room; I don't think I'll be needing it tonight…"

**xoxo**

_Dear Data Log…_

_The white beast has been nearly fully examined. The other specimen is all that is left. Soon, when both inspections are complete, my plan will fall into action. _

_Forget-Me-Not Valley will realize my full potential… I'll never be laughed at again…_

_I, Daryl, will teach them what it means to be played with._

_Very, very soon… _

"Goodnight, Forget-Me-Not."


	8. A Rose Among Weeds

A/N: Hey guys

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the moderately slow update. It's been a slow two months, and even I'm having trouble finding ways to quell my writer's block. Sorry for the lack of gore and horror I've been promising…I'm seeming a bit overboard with drama, suspense, mystery, and above all, ROMANCE. XD But it's Harvest Moon, so I can't help it. Thank you everyone for reviewing and favouriting and stuff, and I know beggars can't be choosers, but it'd be nice if you O blessed silent ones could offer me even the slightest feedback, whether in a pm or review. So thanks again and enjoy!

Cold As Snow

Gwen lounged soundly in her room, too awake to even lie in bed. So she sat on it, wringing her fingers and wishing she'd packed more things than just clothes, weapons (just in case) and few pictures or sentimental valuables. She wished she could've brought a game—Flower Bud Monopoly—anything. But as bored as she was, she still ached for Dan.

Then, remembering something, her face lit up suddenly. She leapt up, literally, and dug through her things, not stopping until one particular belonging was in sight. She grabbed it, delicately but firmly, and plopped onto the ground.

Dan had given her this, telling her not to look at it until she had arrived at her destination. Technically, this wasn't her intended destination, but it was close enough and she was much too eager to wait any longer. Gwen linked her fingers through the opening of the pure, long white envelope, sliding it open with ease.

She sucked in her breath when she saw a single paper—no, more like parchment—looking light brown with age. Unable to help herself, she brought it to her face and sniffed it. It smelled like Dan. She hugged it against her heart. Then, pulling it out, she unfolded it, careful not to make a rip to the delicate parchment, and read. Each word melted into her eyes, and she pretended Dan was beside her, reading it aloud. She could almost feel the room piece away…

_To: Gwen_

_Your tongue is sharp as scissors, and your eyes as fierce as flames_

_Steel as steel, and wild as the wild_

_You are a rose among weeds_

_A red, ruby rose, so pristine_

_Like a young child, you are delicate_

_You are dear, so dear to my heart_

_Forever._

_-Dan._

Gwen let out her stalled breath when she finished reading, feeling confused yet wonderful. She reread each sentence, then read line one, then three, then two, and then closed her eyes and pictured everything he had written. She paused, wondering if this was really Dan—she'd never seen the poetic side of him. Angry, pitiful, blissful…but not poetic.

She began to question the poem's phrases and format, wondering what he meant by 'forever.' Did he mean they'd be together forever? He'd love her forever? She would be dear to his heart forever? And was he calling her the word 'dear' in the second last stanza, or merely repeating it for emphasis?

_It's a love poem, you dumbass. It's supposed to make you feel good, not think. _

She smiled to herself, overjoyed that Dan would write a poem to her. It gave her a fluttery feeling, a light feeling…and a feeling that finally allowed her to feel, if only slightly, tired.

She folded the letter back up, pocketed it into the envelope, and laid it on the nightstand. Then she switched out the lights and snuggled under the covers.

"A rose among weeds, huh…"

_I'm more like the pesticides._

**xoxo**

Nami leaned against the front counter, lights off in the ground floor. She stared at the frail lights coming through the cracks in the wood walls, but quickly looked away. It wasn't like she was scared of the dark or anything, even if it was pitch black and she could barely see even herself. It was just…she was getting this weird feeling. And for the first time in a long time, she really didn't want to be alone.

Tilting her head up to glance in the general direction of the hidden staircase, she toyed with the idea of seeing the bellman. She didn't know his name, and he was ringing the bell when she met him, so that would be his new nickname—Bellman. In fact, he seemed like one of the people that could relate to her, and there weren't many…

Acting on pure instinct, she reeled up the stairs, surprisingly unhesitant. Then, approaching her room quietly, she didn't bother knocking and threw open the door. She almost smiled when the startled bellman jumped up from the bed, looking disgruntled and restless.

"What do you think you're doing?" he snarled.

She rolled her eyes, walking in and closing the door behind her in case they awakened anyone else. "What do you mean? This _is _my room. I'm just going to my room."

He looked annoyed and unable to find a comeback. Uncurling himself from the ball he'd rolled into, he opted to take up a sitting position. "Well…"

Clearly he was finding no means of conversation starters, so she gave him one. "What's your name?" Nami asked quietly. For some reason she found names to be extremely important to the person. Even if it wasn't their choice, it was the one word that described everything they were.

"Jamie. Why?" He looked suspicious.

"Why?" Nami repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't it common courtesy to ask for someone's name?" She paused, intentionally not too long or short. "Oh yeah, you're a foreigner. Of course you don't have the same rules."

He seemed to be getting pissed. "Well, if you're such a little miss polite, then what the hell's _your _name?"

"Usually you omit the 'hell'—"

"I don't care!"

She grinned, almost triumphantly. "Then you don't get my name." Oddly curious, she sank into her favourite wooden stool. "So where are you from?"

He looked reluctant, but still too sleep-deprived to retort. "A place far, far away that no one gives a damn about. And I'm assuming you live here?" He nodded to her walls.

Nami shrugged. "Kind of. I'm a traveler. I don't really live anywhere. But residence-wise, then yes, I do pretty much live here."

"You sound unsure." He smirked at her with only one side of his lips. "What do you do for a living?"

_Turning the tables, hm? He's an interesting one. _"Live," she answered vaguely. "Et tu?"

"I'm a farmer. Well, used to be. Then something happened."

He seemed bitter, so it made her even more curious. "What happened?" She didn't mean to be nosy or pry—but it wasn't often that she found someone that appealed to her so much.

"Well, there was this guy—oh, wait, why am I telling you this?" He shook his head and laughed, half mockingly and half earnestly. "First of all, you haven't even told me your name. Second, I try to forget, myself…"

"How about this," Nami compromised, "you tell me your life story, and I tell you my name. Fair trade?"

"Not in the least."

"Too bad. Shoot."

A bit more awake now, he actually started explaining. "Well, it all started back at my home village, Flower Bud. Well, it was once my home, anyway. I was just a regular old farmer there, and rancher, mind you. I took care of crops, animals, talked to townsfolk every so often…" Jamie paused to look over at her, as if expecting an interruption. "A listener, aren't you?"

She nodded, not offended. "Your turn, Talker."

He wiggled into a more comfortable position, looking distant. "Well, yeah, I was your everyday farmer, as I've said for the thousandth time. And there was this…person. Let's call him…uhm…Stewey. Stewey and I didn't so much like each other."

Nami interrupted him with a short laugh. "Like a rival? And what's with the cover name? I'm not going to stalk him."

"Well, you know." Jamie paused, and for that moment she wondered what was going through his head.

She spoke softly, not wanting to be distrusted. "It doesn't matter. Go on."

He nodded appreciatively in her direction, but that only drove her a bit more insane. "Well, one day, there was this abrupt…storm. It wasn't like any normal rainfall. It was raining heavily, thundering disastrously, and terribly…uh…lightning and wind…-ing. In short, the weather was enough to seriously mess you up.

"At the time of the storm, I was tending my fields. It was idiotic because I was just done tilling the soil and the rain would wash it all away. Even worse? I lose my dog, Calvertutrp."

"Wait, what the hell kind of name is Calvertutrp?"

When he glared at her, she blushed. "No more interruptions," she promised, so he continued.

"Well, Cal had gone missing at the very beginning. And, well, the storm wasn't at its worse yet, and I didn't want my dog getting zapped to death, so naturally I went out to look for him." He came to a sudden halt when Nami cocked her mouth open, and she shrank away again, her lips tightly sealed.

"After a while, I was getting pretty weak, so I, uh, passed out. This old man, a clay maker guy, took me in, and guess who I saw in front of me first thing when I woke up?" He seemed to make an allowance as he nodded to Nami.

"'Stewey'," she filled in, still listening intently.

"That's exactly right. Well, Stewey was there, and things were getting a bit heated. Then the old man comes and hands out this crap in a bowl, claiming it's racoon liver, then saying it's fish soup! No pun intended, but it was pretty fishy. So Ja—Stewey eats it and bam! He's out like a light."

Nami's eyes widened, picturing the scene in her mind. "Ouch," she offered.

Jamie shrugged, not seeming to care. "I don't care about the ass anyway…"

"Why do you hate him so much?"

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

Nami instantly began to feel she shouldn't have said anything. But she got that feeling a lot of times, and when she started, she couldn't stop—she needed answers. "I can tell you hate him. But why?"

"It's just…who he is. He's one of those people that I really just…hate."

"Is he demanding? Mean? Protective?"

"No, but…" He faltered. "Can't a man not need a reason to hate another?"

Nami frowned. "It's not right to hate someone for no reason. Dislike is fine, but hate is a very strong word—"

"You don't get it. I just hate him."

"What did he ever do to you then?"

"Well, I'm not done with the story—"

"You claimed that even before the 'story' took place, you hated him. You're saying that you hate him for no reason."

"Damn it, there's a reason!!"

His voice reverberated off the walls, and this produced a silence. Nami simply shook her head, and though Jamie refused to confide in her, she had the answers she wanted. "Please continue."

He looked pissed, shocked, and even a bit dejected. But he continued, his voice flat. "The clay maker suddenly turned psychopathic and cussed me out. Then Jack's dog came in so he chopped it into little pieces with this big axe. Then he chased me around trying to kill me so I rammed a sickle into his head and killed him."

If possible, the silence was even thicker and ten times more uncomfortable. Nami merely coughed. "Well, that advanced quickly," she reviewed briefly.

_It seems this guy is just full up surprises. _Nami stared at him, not incredulously, but not exactly smoothly either. Somehow, she managed to keep her mouth shut, barren of questions. "Wow," she muttered shortly.

Jamie's face was empty of expression, and his voice flat. "So then Jack woke up and—and he freaked. So we started, well, fighting. It was pretty bad because, like, he was armed and I wasn't. It turned into one big bloodfest. Then this horse came parading in out of nowhere and it drove us up the mountain, and then I had to give Jack this piggyback ride back to town. The end," he ended abruptly.

Nami stared. "Well…"

He seemed to be awaiting a response, looking ready to defend himself by any means.

Nami was speechless, but not thoughtless. "You do realize you revealed this guy's name, right?"

"What? No I—shit. I did." He groaned.

"What's the big deal?"

"He…uh, never mind…so you got any questions? Comments?"

Just to bug him, she let a silence hang in the air before saying uncaringly, "Nope."

He looked deadpan. "Then—"

"Look, I gotta go. There's a spare room down the hall so I'm gonna go there. Bye, later, see you!" She started off quickly, but stopped at the door. "Oh, by the way…"

"What?"

She wheeled around smugly. "What kind of memory do _you _have?"

Jamie blinked. "Huh?"

Nami just shook her head and turned away. Just before she shut the door behind her though, she gave him her final goodbye. "My name's Nami. See you 'round, Bellman."

The door shut, and Jamie only blinked in confusion when she left. _She wasn't even fazed that she was in the same room as a murderer. In fact, she didn't even seem awed. She even…believed me. It's as if someone hears a story like this everyday. _

He looked at the faint scars that remained from his and Jack's battle.

_And to top that all off…Bellman? What the hell?_

**xoxo**

"_Look at me."_

_Silence._

"_I know you can hear me…there is no need to fear me. All I want to do is ask you some questions; you don't even have to answer. Just listen." _

_Still silence._

"_Just assuming I have your attention—ah, I am being rude. Young sir, I have a question for you, if you're willing to listen."_

_The perpetual silence made a lip curl upward._

"_Do you not wish you were still alive?" the accented voice asked with a high level of amusement, as if the question was casual and pertaining to the weather. _

_This time, the lack of response made the voice laughed. _

_As a single, crude voice pierced the air, its tone so bitter and teasing it came through pursed lips, more questions came pouring out. "Don't you wish you had real, actual skin? True red blood—actual, bone-made bones? Aren't you jealous of all those people who walk by you, acting is if you are invisible? Taking you for granted…like dirt?"_

_The other figure, male, stared blankly. _

"_Do you ever think, 'that should be me'? Does envy ever consume you? You're the one who belongs in those perfectly ordinary bodies. You belong, not them. They have no right to have something that you don't. All along, it should've belonged to you…" There was a catty pause, in which the voice took on a serious yet playful tone. "Don't you hate the humans? Don't you hate them?" _

_Still, the male stared._

"_Act now," it ordered. "Act while you still can. Act while you still feel all the anguish they used against you…and slaughter them. Annihilate them. Gather all of the wrath, all the fury, all the rage…take it and destroy them. It's all the humans' fault why you're here without what they have. Clearly they will not leave…so kill them. Kill them with whatever you have. Let them share the fate they bestowed on you…" _

_Finally, the male responded. "Why do you care?" he asked in a crackling, weakening voice. _

_The other presence smiled tightly. "I don't. No one cares about you." _

_He whipped around incredulously at the blunt answer, fist raised, when a sharp cackle went through his ears. _

"_Yes, yes! That's what I want! Get that anger; take that pain! Turn it into power! Make everyone bow down to you, inflict this strength on everyone! Stop at nothing!" the voice shrieked._

_The figure grew silent, to the point where he almost looked stony. "Kill them…" he finally repeated hypnotically._

"_Yes, yes, kill them. Stop at nothing. Those hypocrites deserve death…I am glad you understand." The command was punctuated with a finalizing phrase, the perpetual smile wiped clear. "After all, there is no wrongdoing for someone who _is barely alive_…"_

**xoxo**

**End Notes: **I edited the last part. If you're reading this note, you've already read the edited version. (Duh.)


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